The Fed
by Amber Jack
Summary: My name is Charlie, short for Charlotte. I'm 30 yrs old and have black hair & green eyes. I don't get along w/ my brother. I met the boys & they saved my life. I let them go. Did I mention I was a fed? Everything is about to change. *New Chapters*
1. PrologueThe Fed

I am in the process of rewriting and re-editing this story. Please forgive my spelling mistakes as I am using open office and we all know how annoying that can be.

This story will be mainly about my character and Sam. They are not a couple in this story. In fact, it'll be more than likely that Dean and Charlie get together. I'm going to say anything goes in the story. I am manipulating certain events to fit my needs. I am probably going to add the angels in, but that is to be seen. When I originally started this story, they weren't part of the t.v series plot line. Since I am revamping my story, consider it open season on any of the characters that pop up in the series.

Disclaimer: As much as wish I do, I do not own the boys.

Prologue

I had been working on the case for about two years now. A case that my brother had dumped on my desk in the middle of a friday afternoon. Told me to see what I could do about it. It was an odd file. The case file detailed the life of two brothers. They were wanted for several crimes. Some more mundane then the others. Some of the more mundane crimes were unusual to say the least. The eldest was wanted for murder. Which was somewhat puzzleing as there had been a dead body that had shown up at one of the crime scenes. DNA analysis had the body identified as a direct match to Dean Winchester. Then in a rather unlikely bank robbery, he was I.D.-ed by my brother as still being alive. The case had been closed but then re-opened with the new evidence of him being still alive. Samuel Winchester was an interesting one. My brother liked to call them a regular Bonnie and Clyde. My bother was usually right, but I think there was something missing. Something no-one was quite getting.

There list of crimes were extensive. The eldest was wanted for murder, attempted murder, credit card fraud, insurance fraud, impersonation of government officials and desecrating grave sites. The younger brother was wanted for aiding and abetting a suspected murderer, credit card fraud, insurance fraud, impersonation of government officials and desecrating grave sites. They were also both wanted for numerous amounts of property damage by fire and other such minor charges.

It seemed each time that we'd get close to the brothers; they'd end up disappearing into thin air, sometimes only seconds before we arrived on scene. I couldn't understand how they could disappear so suddenly and neither could my brother, which was why he had originally assigned me to the case. In the department I had a bit of a blood-hound image. I would sink my teeth into a case and wouldn't let go. I had been forced off of cases by my superiors because of my single minded obsessiveness that I could exhibit.

My brother got tired of the screw ups by his direct subordinates and had received permission from his superiors to put me on the case. I knew his end game if no one else did. It was his way of getting me out of the way. He wanted the brothers behind bars but he didn't necessarily care who did it and if it meant keeping me busy, that was just an added bonus. Even though I was technically no longer a field agent, I would still be assigned cases. The brothers were considered a low priority case so my brother threw it my way. He knew I would get curious and find out everything I could. It would also mean that I was out of his way when it came to some of the department politics. A game I refused to play.

I had once been a damn good field agent, according to all my medical records I was no longer cleared for active field duty. I was perfectly capable of doing the work, I just liked having people underestimate me. My brother knew that I wasn't as 'inactive' as I lead everyone, including my superiors to believe. It suited my goals just fine to be shunted to the shadows.

Two years ago, right before my brother handed me the Winchester case, I was seriously injured on assignment. I was shot in the leg, which would have been a somewhat minor injury if I hadn't have also been stabbed in the back as well. The stab wound had severly damaged my nerved, which cause a minor loss of mobility after I healed and went through the require physical theraphy. The gun shot wound cause a permament limp. I passed most of the physical exams that allowed be the retain a 'mostly' active status. In other words, I could be assigned cases, but I always had to work with a senior field agent. Most of the time that senior field agent was my brother.

He probably assigned me more cases than any one else would have, but he knew I could handle it, after all he'd been the one to shot me in the leg to take down that bastard that had stabbed me in the back. He may not have liked me as much as he should have by being blood relations, but he had personally overseen my physical theraphy and knew most of what I was capable of out in the field. Though since I was not on full active status, I had to rely on my other skills to retain my position in the FBI.

I was a hacker and a profiler. I created and routinely checked the security system for my branch. I was one of three people capable of hacking my system. One hacker was in jail for hacking my system and the other I hadn't caught yet, but was fairly sure I knew exactly who he was. Lately someone had been trying to hack through my firewalls and it was starting to piss me off. He hadn't breached the system yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time. I mostly acted as department profiler. I took pride in the fact that I was very good at my job and it was a blow to my ego that I could't completely figure out the brothers. I had to constantly change my private profile of them. Yes I did keep a few secrets from my superiors, some of my profile was a bit odd, even for a case such as theirs.

There was something that bothered me about the brothers. It was my job to get into the heads of the brothers and try to understand what they were doing. What I had found was a contradiction in terms and that was what both bothered, irritated and intrigued me.

The elder bother, Dean Winchester, was a predator, yet at the same time he was a protector. He would do anything and I mean **anything **for his brother, something we had found out from interviews we'd conducted at the various hospitals, hotels and other locations we'd found traces of them. I couldn't understand why he killed those girls in St. Louis. Nothing in his personality said that he would raise a hand against women. He was charismatic and respectful of women. Yet he was still undeniably a womanizer. He was also a hunter, a seasoned hunter and I hadn't yet figured out who or what he was hunting. Something was driving him. In Dean's case I could understand the credit card scams and the insurance frauds, it was how he was raised. I'd found that in the last couple of years since I'd been on the case, trouble followed the boys like a moth to the flame. Both of them were hunters and were hunting something, I had yet to tell the bureau of this morsel of information. If I couldn't explain it to myself than how the hell was I suppose to explain it to my superiors. There was also someone that seemed to be hunting them, afterall how else would you explain the trouble that followed them.

Now, the younger brother, Samuel Winchester, had me going stir crazy trying to figure him out. I didn't understand him at all. Nothing about him made any sense to me. From the information I had gathered about him, I could understand that some kind of revenge or vengeance was driving him. I'd hacked into his school records and found that he'd left school shortly after his girlfriend had died in a freak electrical fire. A fire that was eerily similar to the way his mother had died when he was six months old. Witnesses had claimed that a man in dark clothing had dragged Samuel out of the apartment that he and his girlfriend had shared. I believed that it was Dean who'd been there that night.

Besides hacking into his files for information on that night, I'd found a few other startling facts. Samuel Winchester was incredibly intelligent. He'd been at the top of his class and had received a full ride scholar ship into Stanford Law (ironic really with all the trouble his family was always in). The school had already given him the scholarship and had set an interview for technical purposes. I was pretty damn sure he was my hacker that had been giving me heacaches the last couple of weeks. Little bastard.

However everything changed on October 31st, his brother had shown up and from what I'd gathered from interviewing his friends, he went missing and wasn't seen again. His friends said that Jessica Moore had known where Samuel had gone and when he'd returned on November 2nd the fire took his girl friend's life.

Samuel was seemed to be the most level headed criminal that I'd ever had to profile, yet he covered for his brother. Even though Dean was his brother, there was undeniable proof that he was a murderer and Samuel didn't seem the type to go around protecting murderers, family or not.

The father, Jonathon Winchester, was a mystery. Reports of his death had come in, oddly enough through an untraceable email that I believe was sent by Samuel, as far as anyone could tell, they were true. However there was no body, it was either burned or dumped in an untraceable location, I believed he was cremated. After his wife had died, it was documented that he went a little crazy. Child services had been called, but he'd disappeared before they'd gotten there. He had dropped off the radar for several years. It wasn't until Dean was about eight years old that they'd showed back up on paper. Again child services had been called because the boy had looked abused and again they'd disappeared. The nurse that had taken care of the boys, wrote in their file that other than the obvious bruising and broken arm that Dean had, the boy had shown no signs of an abused child, neither had young Samuel. Like his sons, he was or had been wanted for several crimes.

Unfortunately I wouldn't be allowed to continue the investigation that I had started two years ago. My brother had taken all my official documents yesterday on orders from his superiors. I was rather pissed off at them. I considered it a slight to my skills. I was finally getting somewhere and they were pullling the plug on my investigation and giving it to my brother? Call it sibling rivarly if you wanted, it still pissed me off. After the back robbery where they had held several hostages and my brother had been called in to be negotiator as I had been sitting in an interogation room attempting to profiler a serial rapist, the agency felt it would be better if my brother took the reins once again. It didn't help that every witness refused to testify against the brothers when they were caught. They were warned that they would be handed a supena and be forced to testify in open court, some of the answers to that had varied in language, but essentially they told the agency to stuff it. Even though I had been removed from the case, I was still doing my own digging. I was sure my brother knew about it, but he must have approved otherwise he would have tied me down to my desk and swamped me with a ton of paperwork. He'd done it before and was not opposed to using such methods again.

With the reassigning of my case I was being forced to take a sabbatical. The agency wanted me out of the way while my temper was in danger of exploding. As I metioned earlier, I did have a bit of a repitation around the office.

Since I'd been with the agency for roughly ten years, I was allowed to take a three week vacation. They were calling it a leave of absence, I was calling it being forced to sit in the corner like a naughty school girl. I could have argued, but there would have been no point, that and I risked the fact that they could remove my partially active status. If they did that I would quit. I hated paperwork. It made me shudder to think of the mounds of it that awaited me when I was allowed back. I knew that my filing system would have to be completely redone and eveything my assitant did would have to redone. There was a reason I hadn't taken a vacation in ten years, everything was fucked up when you got back.

Since I was being forced to leave I was going to my best friend's house in upstate New York. It was time for a vacation and I hadn't seen Kaddy in about five years. We'd grown up together and were like sisters. We had a closer relationship than I had with my own brother.

So this is were my story truly begins: the day I was shot and almost killed, to be saved by two of the most wanted men in the United States and then have my entire life turned upside down by two brothers who would do more than just save my life from a gun shot wound.


	2. Chapter 1

Rewrite of chapter 1, its a short chapter. Only a couple of things are different. Some of it, I just restructured. The basic ideal is still the same.

Disclaimer:I don't own the boys.

Enjoy-Jack

Chapter One

New York, unnamed café

It was a nice spring day. Not too hot and not too cool. My friend, Kaddy, and I were downtown sitting at a nice, if outrageously priced, café. It was 9 a.m. We were both early risers and had been up since six this morning. Since I had arrived in New York, Kaddy and I had been catching up on old times. Both of us trying to get the feel of each other, even though we had emailed each other constantly over the years and called one another around the holidays, we hadn't seen each other in nearly five years. It was nice to see my friend again. I may not have been pleased about my forced vacation, but I was enjoying it.

Growing up we were the best of friends. Growing up, my brother had had little to do with me. After his dad married my mom, he was resentful of the change and took it out on the people nearest him. It wasn't until I was out of high school that he started to pay attention to my daily life. He would protect and watch out for me only if he saw fit to do so, but even now if he had to turn me in, he'd do it in a heart beat. He almost did once.

I know that I mentioned I was a hacker for the bureau, a so called white hat, but it used to be my hobby to break into secure systems, especially banks (Just because I could). I've never stolen anything; I just liked to make the higher-ups sweet.

When my brother found out about my little hobby and went to turn me in (the bureau would not have been the least bit happy), he couldn't. Why? Well it wasn't for the lack of trying; he wasn't able to pin anything concrete on me. After he became too suspicious, I had stopped, but paid a 'friend' to continue using my name and M.O. In this way I was able to erase all traces of me ever being the Starblaze hacker. All modesty aside, I am very good and if I ever wanted to disappear I could do it in a heart beat. I could erase all traces of myself from every computer data base in the world.

Shaking my mind free of random thoughts, I turned my attention back to Kaddy. I'd been talking to her for last 20 minutes and couldn't remember a damn thing that she said to me. My mind was caught between my brother and the case he'd taken from me. I knew I was getting to obsessed with case, even now I didn't want to let it go. I had been working, pretty much solely, on the brothers for two years. That's a pretty long time to be working on any kind of case. It had taken the bureau six months to reassign the case after that farce of a bank robbery. It had pissed me off something fierce when they gave the case to my brother, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I took my 'vacation' with little complaint.

"Charlie!"

"What?"

Kaddy looked like she wanted to slap me silly, "Were you even paying attention to what I was saying?"

I nodded and waved my hand in annoyance, "Yeah, something about your last boyfriend cheating on you and you getting him back."

She glared at me and then laughed, "You will never change."

I looked at her with a puzzling frown, "huh?"

"Never mind."

We were silent for a few moments, enjoying our coffee, but Kaddy could never keep quiet for long. She started gabbing again, this time about her job; I was barely paying attention, my eyes sweeping the hundreds of people that were walking around. One could get lost; disappear and never to be seen again, in a city this big. It was tempting.

My thoughts focused on disappearing, it came as a complete shock when I saw them. A Chevy Impala came speeding down the street. Horns blared and people were cursing as the car came to a sudden halt, less than a city block from where Kaddy and I were sitting. I was in shock; both brothers came out of the vehicle and both of them were caring guns in plain sight, searching the skyline frantically.

As soon as they started to speed walk in my direction, I slowly started to stand up, reaching for my badge and gun as I did so, Forgetting that my gun wasn't there. I was on vacation and not technically allowed to carry a gun when I wasn't on shift. I still had my badge, I never left it anywhere, but it had just been years since my sidearm had not been on my person. My hand reached for empty air as I met Samuel Winchester's eyes and I heard three shots fired consecutively. All three from someone other than the brothers, as soon as the shots were fired, the youngest began to curse and run toward me. I didn't understand what was happening as my legs gave out from under me and I collapsed on the ground.

Kaddy started to scream, "Help…Oh God…someone help us! She's been shot! Call 911!" (Where the hell was her phone?) Other people were screaming and running. I felt someone knelt down beside us. I felt no pain, if Kaddy wasn't so hysterical and if I hadn't collapsed on the ground, I would have never known I'd gotten shot.

It was the younger Winchester who had knelt down beside us. He looked down at me, "Damn, she's in shock." He muttered something I didn't quite catch as he took off his jacket and pressed it against my chest. I wasn't able to feel anything and I was loosing consciousness. From his placement of his jacket, I was pretty sure I'd been shot near my heart and from the lack of feeling, possibly near my spinal column.

Samuel looked around and his attention was caught by a cloudy figure. I must be loosing a lot of blood, I think I was hallucinating.

"She's got to go to a hospital now Dean, we can't wait for an ambulance. Come here, we'll get the bastard later."

"Shit," I heard a gruff voice mutter as I was lifted up with strong arms. My badge fell out of my nerveless fingers and Kaddy picked it up. "She's a…"

"I know…ugh…this wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't see this." I heard distantly as his strong arms held me tightly. I vaguely felt the sensation of being moved into the back of what I assumed to be the Impala.

The last thing I heard, before all the lights went out was, "You can't save everybody Sammy. You know your visions aren't infallible."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two rewrite. Most things are the same. Again some the paragraphs were restructured. A couple things were added. Please enjoy and let me know that you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys.

Chapter Two

_Hospital_

Waking was disorientating. The lights were too loud and the beeping was giving me a migraine. I hated waking to bright lights and loud noise and loathed white ceilings. I groaned and shut my eyes. I was in pain and pissed that I was in the hospital, glad I was alive, but still pissed. I despised hospitals. The good news was that with the pain came the knowledge that I could still feel.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that I was in a hospital. I let out a moan as I tried to sit up. My body felt like it had been thrown from the roof of a six story building without the air mattress to soften the fall.

When I'd moved, I heard someone get up from the chair. I assumed it was Kaddy until I felt the same strong hands that had held me after I'd gotten shot. He helped me sit up and placed the button to the morphine drip in my hands. I loved those things, greatest invention in the world.

I opened my eyes and saw that the lights had been turned off. Though I wasn't sure how he'd turned them off without going across the room. There must have been a light switch on the far wall were he'd been sitting. I still sighed in relief and looked towards the man who had saved my life. I only vaguely remembered what had happened and it had slipped my mind on who exactly had been there that day.

Vaguely I wondered how long I'd been out of it when the younger Winchester laughed at my gob smacked expression. I was trying to figure out what the hell he was doing here, in a hospital, with an FBI agent, when both he and his brother were wanted criminals.

He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, "We'll be long gone by the time your friends show up. I wanted to make sure you were okay before we hit the road."

I shook my head, trying to clear the blissful fog that covered my mind like a soft blanket (the morphine was working), "what happened, why…how…" I couldn't seem to find the words that I wanted.

Somehow he knew that I was asking, "You won't understand if I told you the whole truth…_at least not yet_ (this last part was muttered so low that I barely caught it)…I'll explain what I can. At the very least you deserve that much."

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes wearily, "We were… (_Hunting_, I whispered)." He shot me an odd look that I couldn't decipher and continued, "The guy we were following had already shot ten people. Five of them were killed at the initial shooting, two bled out on the way to the hospital, one died on the operating table, two are still critical and so far you're the only one who has regained consciousness. You were extremely lucky and honestly I don't understand how you survived. If you hadn't of stood up when you did…well you'd be dead right now."

I was about to say something when he paused but he cut me off, "You don't want to know. You're still a Federal Agent. All you need to know is that the body will never be found."

I was in shock and this time it wasn't injury induced. He was right, I am a fed and yet here he was, talking to me as if he hadn't a care in the world. He just basically confessed to a crime, so it seemed.

"No, I didn't," he smirked.

I shot him a confused look. I couldn't understand him; it was like he was reading my mind. "What the hell do you mean?"

"I haven't confessed to anything and I won't. You won't, rather you can't, get anything out of me that I don't what you to know. Nothing is what it seems," he sighed, "I'm going to leave you a way to contact me. It will be untraceable, so I don't want you trying to run any searches on the GPS. I want you to keep this cell on you at all times," he said as he took out a thin black cell phone from his jacket pocket. I noticed it wasn't the same jacket he had used to slow the bleeding from my gun shot wound and briefly wondered what he'd done with it. "Trust me, you'll need it sooner than either of us will like."

I snorted and he smirked at my disbelief. If I weren't so doped on morphine at the moment, I'm sure he would make more sense, but at the moment I just wasn't seeing it.

He started to leave the room, "Your friend's coming up so I'll leave you alone for now. See you around and its Sam…not Samuel."

"Not likely," I muttered as he left, but not before I caught his smirk. After this I was going to make sure I double checked my profiles. I think I have the brothers mixed up and this time I'm sure it wasn't the morphine. Samuel (I guess its Sam now…wonder how he knew I always thought of him as Samuel) Winchester was more of a contradiction than I'd first thought.

Kaddy came in less than thirty seconds after he left. "I called your brother, he said he'd get here when he could," she scowled. I did too; he would always be a bastard. Even now, he didn't care enough to come see his baby sister when she'd almost died. Hell it was his fault that I wasn't a field agent in the first place. It was his mistake that had almost cost me my leg, let alone my life.

We'd been tracking a serial killer that had liked to play with his victims. Get them to do things through psychoanalyzing their personalities. My brother didn't listen to my warning about the killer and ran off half cocked. Me, being his partner at the time, had followed with a curse. The situation went from bad to worse. It had been more than one killer and we hadn't known that until that moment. The one disarmed my brother and the other grabbed me and held me at knife point. I fought back and was stabbed for my efforts. The ass hole then grabbed my gun and held me at gun point. At this point I was uttering some rather foul language and decided that when we got out this I was going to kill my brother for being an idiot. The woman killer got inside my brother's head and told him that they would release all hostages if he shot me. I pretty sure my brother never even hesitated as he pulled the trigger. He shot me in the leg, the bullet went straight through me to the guy holding me and then he shot the guy in the head and turned the gun on the woman. The woman laughed as my brother turned his gun on her.

She told my brother that he would fail in the end. Everything he worked for was for nothing because there were things he would never understand. I took the knife still imbedded in my side and threw it straight at the bitches head. She never knew what hit her.

My brother had never apologized to me for his asinine breach of protocol and I spent 16 months in physical therapy getting back into shape. The entire time I was chained to desk until I was cleared for field work again. I think out of all that, that is the one thing I will never forgive my brother for. I hated paperwork.

It hadn't taken me too long to actually heal, but in the end I was left with a permanent limp. The bullet had done long term damage to the muscles in my leg. It had taken 6 months of intense physical therapy to be able to walk without out a cane. I played on my injury as it gave me an advantage that no one knew about it. I would never be a marathon runner, but I could still still give most people a run for there money. My brother didn't know what I was really capable of and I wanted to keep it that way. You never knew what kind of advantage you would need in the future and I had always liked to keep my cards close to my chest.

Shaking my memories away, I started when Kaddy walked in. "So…who's the hottie?" (I wondered why she didn't know who he was, especially if I had been out for any length of time. It had to have been at least twenty-four hours; after all I was no longer in the ICU and stable.)

I barked out a laugh, upsetting my injury as I did so, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh?" she was curious now and again I wanted to why she didn't know who he was.

"That hottie as you put it, my dear Kaddy, was my case."

She frowned, "Your case?"

"Remember the case I was taken off of?" she nodded. "Well that man who saved my life, is the younger of the two brothers. I assume the older one was hanging around somewhere. Where one is, the other is right behind. My brother was right when he said that Sam was Dean's Bonnie to his Clyde. The bureau has been actively looking for them for the last two years."

"Oh." She breathed as she sat down on the chair Sam had been occupying earlier. Kaddy looked a little faint. Like most of the world, she'd heard about the Winchesters. After the bank robbery that they'd been hostages of and then in a series of strange events that no one could explain (or rather they wouldn't explain), their faces had been on every news channel for weeks. That had been six months ago. Since then the brothers had been at large, but haven't been seen since, well until now that is. They must have gone underground for awhile.

I had a feeling I knew why. I would put money on it that they'd saved other people and in repayment those people hadn't turned them in. According to many state a federal laws, this was a crime in and out of itself. The system didn't like it when information was withheld.

Lost in my thoughts, I played with the cell that Sam had given to me. For the moment I would keep quiet and tell my brother only the bare minimum that had to be told, after all I was a gun shot victim and would be interviewed as per regulations. I was sure that they had already pulled any security feed that had been available in the area and was currently reviewing it. I wonder what they would fine.

Like he had said, nothing was as it seemed and I had the foreboding sense that I was about to be dragged into something that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. Feeling sleepy, (the morphine was doing it's job), I started to drift off to the sound of Kaddy and her aimless ramblings. It made me smile that my friend could talk so aimlessly. It was annoying but reassuring, because for now things were the same.

Some on my last thoughts were of the brothers. I needed to do some more research and I would bet anything that my brother had cut my security clearance. That would just mean that I had to tap into my other skills. I had questions and I **would** find the answers, no matter what it took. The blood-hound was waking up.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter three rewrite. There is small 3rd person section in the middle between Charlie's and Sam's P.O.V. I write in 1st person more often than that, hence the changing point of views. I'm sure that it annoys people, but since I haven't had any new reviews since 2007, I don't actually know. Lol.

There are several things that have been added to help the plot line. I also took out a couple of unnecessary tidbits. Oh an there are a couple of words in places of others that should be there, but I couldn't find them. So if you do, let me know.

Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own the boys.

Chapter Three

_Still at the hospital_

I was in the hospital for another week. I should have been there longer, but I've always healed faster than average. My personal doctor flew to New York to take care of me. After she had heard that I'd been shot from a news story, she came as soon as she could. I told her not to worry but she claimed she needed a vacation anyway. She'd been my doctor since before I became a federal agent and knew all of my health 'abnormalities'. As a child I had had a poor immunity and had been sick on and off until I was 15. Then something weird happened to me. Two weeks before my 15th birthday, I got deathly ill. In fact I'd literally been on my death bed. No one thought I would survive, my birthday came around and something happened that no one expected. My mother had gone home for the night and my step-dad stayed with me. My brother who'd been in his 20's at the time, relieved him for a couple of hours. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I remember someone pulling the I.V. from my arm. Whoever did it saved my life. I started to get better almost immediately. My brother claimed he had stepped out for a couple of minutes and the next thing he knew, alarms were blaring and I was waking up. My doctor told me that my mind must have instinctively known that I would die if something didn't change. I knew better, but never corrected her assessment. My brother pulled my I.V. from my arm, I am still unsure whether he thought it would save me or if he was trying to put me out of my misery.

Since that time in the hospital I had healed abnormally fast. Injuries that should have killed me, I bounced back from with-in weeks. If I had been any other person when I'd been shot and stabbed, I would have bleed out when I'd been foolish enough to pull the knife from my body. The gun-shot wound should have left me permanently confined to a wheel chair. All that was left from the whole fiasco was a slight limp. I was blessed with my healing ability, I just didn't like anyone else knowing about it.

Kara or Dr. Sanders was an elderly woman in her fifties with her own practice and treated me much like she would one of her granddaughters. I loved her for that. She had ties all over the world and was renowned for her work. After she got the hospital administration to hand my case over to her, she was able to get me released at the end of the week. They'd been reluctant to release me, but she signed all the necessary paperwork that transferred liability over to her. The hospital probably thought she'd have me taken straight to her practice through private ambulance. If I'd been someone else, she would have, but by the time she released me, I'd already had scar tissue where the bullet had almost knocked my heart. She'd told me to take it easy and that I'd probably be sore for a while longer. She warned me to take better care of myself, hugged me and went back to California.

Kaddy had visited me everyday after the twenty-four hours I spent in ICU. (I still couldn't figure out how Sam had gotten the nurses to let him stay with me. They hadn't even let Kaddy stay for longer than twenty minutes. I hadn't been in the ICU when I talked to Sam, but rather in the same room I was in now.) Unfortunately Kaddy had been in the room when my doctor was lecturing me and since I was staying with her, she'd make sure I took it easy (whether I wanted too or not).

My brother had come to see me on my last day at the hospital. His excuse was that his superiors at the bureau had kept him too busy. Pathetically enough, he didn't come see me because I was his injured baby sister; rather it was because I was now a victim of an on going investigation that had showed up on the FBI's radar about five kills ago. Sam had been right about his information. The sniper had taken out 10 random people across three states. Now though the FBI had nothing but cold leads. They couldn't find him or any evidence that he'd been there in New York the day I was shot. Interesting enough, the brothers were also not on any of the security feed they had of the shooting. On all feeds they could see me get shot and fall, but then for about 20 minutes there was nothing but white noise and then the feeds carried on showing the crowds of New York.

So I told him some of what I knew and remembered about the scene. I told him that I had been eating with Kaddy and when I had gone to stand up, I was shot. I told him I had heard three shots and assumed the other two went wild. I didn't tell him that I was pretty sure that the guy who shot me was deader than a door nail and that I had been fairly certain I'd been shot twice. I'd only had the one wound, so still wasn't sure about that one. I just knew some freaky shit was going on and I wanted to get some answers. I didn't tell him about the boys.

Kaddy had been silent through the whole interview. She would ask later why I didn't tell my brother everything. She knew me well enough that I must have had a damn good reason for with holding information in a federal investigation, especially when I myself was an FBI agent.

My brother left and told me that the bureau had given me the month off to heal from injuries. I took the offer without complaint, I was getting paid leave. If my brother's aloof behavior hadn't been normal behavior, I probably would have cried from his coldness. It was a pity that I was more than used to his behavior and no longer cared what he thought of me. I had stopped caring about his approval a long time ago.

"You lied," Kaddy accused as soon as she saw my brother leave the hospital. She had been watching the window and I had been patiently waiting for her to say something.

"I did not."

She huffed, "Withholding information, besides being a felony in this scenario, is still a lie by omission."

I rolled my eyes, "Do you really think I should turn in the men who saved my life?"

"No."

"Well, what would you have me do then?"

"Nothing," she sighed. She knew my brother as well as I did. He would have no problem arresting Sam and Dean.

"My doctor is releasing me this evening."

"I know. I borrowed my neighbor's van so you could lie out in the back seat. This way I don't have to call a cab."

"I thought you didn't like to drive."

She shrugged, "I don't. My neighbor didn't have to work today so she was okay with it."

Nothing more was said for a few minutes and we both fell into a comfortable silence, waiting for the doctors to unplug me from the machines and give me the all clear. I so wanted to get out of this hospital gown. I furrowed my brow as I remembered something that had been bugging me.

"Kaddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there a light switch on the wall close to where you're sitting?"

She frowned as she looked, "No…why'd ya ask?"

"It's nothing, just curious," I fell silent, thinking of how the lights had been turned off when Sam was in my room after they'd moved me from the ICU. I didn't get it and hated unsolved puzzles. Those boys were going to drive me crazy…I could already feel the headache coming on...wait, make it a migraine.

**Sam's p.o.v.**

_Day of incident in upstate New York_

Everything was completely fucked. We'd been hunting a shifter for weeks now. Chasing the bastard down through states. The fucked up bastard had a trail of eight dead bodies and two that were barely hanging on. I didn't want it to turn into twelve victims. We'd just shaken an FBI tail in the last state, good old Bobbie came through for us and got them off our backs. Now were running out of time, I was not quite sure if we'd make it in time to save them both.

Dean and I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but Dean wouldn't ditch the Impala. I knew for a fact that we'd get caught if we didn't ditch the car. It didn't take a psychic to see it, after all the Impala didn't exactly blend in very well, even in a crowded city. It was in pristine condition (when it wasn't covered in dust from dust covered back roads) and turned heads, which made Dean preen like a peacock in mating season.

Last night I'd had a vision of two women at a café I'd recognized. Sarah had taken me there once on a _lets be friends luncheon that could be more if we lived different lives_- so I knew we had to go to New York. In my vision, both of the women had been shot and killed. Both my brother and I were determined to make damn sure that didn't happen.

One of the women that I had seen get shot by the shifter was very important to the future. About three years ago, after Jess had died and before Dean had seen me have one of my visions, I'd seen a black woman with green eyes. I didn't know what she was supposed to do, but I did know that she had to survive and if she died today, we were fucked.

"Can't you go any faster?" We had a six hour drive to New York and barely five hours before all hell broke loose.

"I'm going as fast as I can Sammy."

"It's Sam," I muttered as my brother smirked. Really it was a futile effort to get him to stop calling me Sammy. It was a game that we continued to play because it let us know that no matter what happened, we would be alright as long as we could see each other as brothers. As long as we did the normal things, we could take what ever Hell threw at us and come out standing in the end with a smirk and a grin.

It'd been over six months since that fiasco of a bank robbery. We were no closer in catching the demon and now we had to dodge the FBI and local PD and we had a shifter on the loose.

"I'm going to take a short cut soon; hopefully we'll be able to get to New York before the shifter starts shooting. It blows that we won't be able to scope the area."

I shrugged in response, "I'll call Sarah and she'll give us the directions. I know the café but I don't know how to get there and since you refuse to get a GPS..."

"My baby doesn't want something that blasphemous."

I rolled my eyes as my cell started to ring. It was four in the morning and if I were an average Joe, I'd want to know who the hell was calling me, but I wasn't and I knew who it was without even looking at the caller I.D. "Hey Kathleen, what's up?"

We'd kept in touch over the last year. She never gave the police our names after the Benders and we'd never heard from her again. That was until a haunting that she called us up for. Apparently she'd gotten Dean's number from a mutual friend and gave us a call. To say we were surprised didn't even begin to cover it. After Dean and I had helped her out, she kept an ear open on the police scanner for us and gave us a heads up when we needed it.

"Your guy was spotted about an hour ago."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he was wearing the skin of one of his first victims and had pulled into a service station. The clerk recognized the dead guy and called in a 911."

"Where was he?"

"On the border…where are you guys now?"

"A couple hours outside of Maryland, are the roads clear?"

"Yeah…call me when you guys are through."

"I will and thanks," I said as we hung up. "Dean we have to hurry." He didn't say anything as he stepped on the accelerator.

It took us exactly five hours to get to New York. I'd called Sarah and she'd given me directions as we speed through the streets. By some miracle the roads were clear, both from cops and people. I think Kathleen had something to do with it, but I didn't want to temp fate too much by looking into it. That never worked out well for us.

Dean screeched to a halt with seconds, minutes if we were lucky, to spare. People were cursing us and horns blared. Both of us jumped out of the Impala, neither of us thought to hide our guns. We were trying to get to the girls on time and try to see if it were possible to get a shot at the shifter. I knew he'd be too high for what we carried, but we still needed to try.

I spotted the green-eyed women from my vision moments before she saw me. I pegged her for a fed when I saw her in my vision and looks like I was right. As soon as she started to leave her seat, I ran toward her. I realized that she was reaching for her badge and gun when three shots were fired and she collapsed in a heap on the ground. Her blond friend started to scream for help.

As soon as the shots were fired, Dean and I ran towards them cursing. The blond was hysterical as she pressed her hands against her friend's chest. One shot hit her hit too close to her heart. There was what looked like a graze near her spine. I would puzzle that one later. She'd been shot twice and should have been dead before she hit this ground. She wasn't and she wasn't possessed. She'd been still standing if she'd been a meat sack. That and she was wearing an anti-posession charm around her wrist. It was interesting as I'd only ever seen one like that before and it opened a can or worms that would bug me for awhile.

People were panicking and screaming as they ran from the scene. I grabbed my jacket and pressed against the bullet wound that was pouring blood. I was afraid that she'd bleed out before we could get her to a hospital.

I was helping Dean get her into the Impala when an odd feeling caressed my mind. It wasn't a vision, at least not one I'd ever had before. This was almost empathic in nature, but not quite.

The feeling was one of complete heath, no illness of mind, body, or soul. If it hadn't been for the fact that she was currently doing her best to bleed out in our arms, I would have sworn she was perfectly healthy. It was something to chew on for later.

We couldn't wait for the ambulance to arrive. Dean helped me put her in the back seat and I climbed in to keep her steady. Dean was muttering the whole time about blood and leather. I knew he didn't mean anything about it, it was how he showed he was stressed. Dean slammed the door and jumped into the front. We'd get the shifter after we got her settled.

Her badge had fallen to the ground when we'd maneuvered into the Impala. Dean glared at me for it, he'd known, I'd known that she was a fed. It didn't stop us from helping her, but I knew I would hear about it later. Her friend picked up the badge and jumped into the passengers seat. Dean was about to open his mouth when, she said, "Drive damn-it. We need to take main to south take a right. GO!"

I wanted to smile at her sass. Not to many people talked to him like that.

I pressed harder on the wound with the blood soaked jacket. "This wasn't suppose to happen."

I hadn't realized I said it out load, til my brother replied.

Dean just had to say, "You can't save everybody Sammy. You know your visions aren't infallible." I felt confusion come from the girl in the front, but she didn't say anything. The fed had passed out before we'd gotten her in the Impala.

The ride to the hospital was uneventful. I tried to slow the fed's bleeding and her friend was in the front seat of the Impala barking out directions. If the situation weren't so serious than it would be hilarious to see Dean following the orders of a small, short blond haired woman.

Amazingly enough we made it across town in less than ten minutes. I would swear divine intervention was at work.

As soon as we arrived to the hospital, I carried the fed inside and the doctors took over immediately. It took them thirty minutes to get her stabilized. She was damn lucky to be alive. The bullet missed her heart and wouldn't do any permanent damage. No one said anything about the other bullet wound, so I didn't mention it. The Fed would still be in critical condition for the next twenty-four hours, but I knew without a doubt she would live. I could feel it.

About three months ago we'd realized (after a rather interesting time in a random bar) that I was empathic. I didn't even have a full beer and was completely smashed by the second gulp. After I woke the next morning with no hangover, I called Missouri. After she stopped laughing, she told me what I had to do to control this new 'gift'. Basically I was to stay away from crowded areas and out of bars until I had a handle on my gift. It took about six weeks to get basic control over my new abilities. My ability would get out of control once in awhile and it liked to spiral rather spectacularly out of control. I would usually just catch random flashes of emotion or surface thoughts, but if my brother was feeling for a beer, I was usually the one that ended up in the bar fights is I tagged along. Too much random emotion floating around to keep myself completely under control. It was a work in progress, but I did have a basic grip on my ability and could use it to keep a wider eye open.

The doctor wouldn't give any information to the blond and she was working herself into a panic, so I told the doctor's I was her fiancé. She wore the ring around her neck because of her job. Good thing she wore a ring on her necklace. Though if they had looked closer, they would have realized the ring was much too large for her hand. Good thing it was a minor detail that they didn't question. They took my word for it. After all I was a Winchester and we could all charm our way out of or into any situation we desired. I relayed the information to the blond.

The nurses gave the girl some scrubs so she could get cleaned up. She'd gotten her friend's blood all over her. Dean called Sarah and asked her if we could stay at her apartment for a few days. Both of us wanted to get the shifter and make sure that the fed would live.

_**Scene break-3rd person**_

Sam and Dean left the hospital after Charlie was out of surgery. They had a shifter to take care of. They tracked him down to a roach motel in queens and made sure that he'd never snipe another human being. Once the shifter was dead, Dean got rid of the body and guns. Used thermmite to burn the guns to nothing more than cinders and did a salt and burn on the body.

Sam went back to the hospital to check on Charlie. Kaddy was confined to the waiting room by the on call personal. Sam charmed his way into critical care to wait for Charlie to wake. Early in the morning, Sam stepped out for cheap hospital coffee and Charlie was moved from critical care into a private room. Kaddy was had fallen into an uneasy sleep in the waiting room and Sam tracked down Charlie's room. She would wake soon and he wanted to talk to her and get the feel of her before her friend made her way back up.

Since Sam had told the hospital that he was her fiancé, the nurses didn't question him being on the floor. Sam talked to Charlie as the nurse woke Kaddy up to let her know that she could she her friend if she liked.

Kaddy never talked to the Winchesters, call it shock at seeing her friend almost killed. Sam and Kaddy pass each other as he leaves Charlie. Dean felt it would be better for everyone if he stayed away from the hospital. He didn't like hospitals too much in the first place, he didn't want to chance anything with the Fed and he had the more recognizable face of the two of them and if they were together someone would make a connection that they wouldn't want. If they weren't seen together, there would be less chance of someone calling the Feds on them.

_**Scene break end-Sam's P.O.V-this overlaps the previous sections**_

I'd been waiting in the fed's room for the last twenty minutes. Her friend was still asleep down in the lobby and I didn't want to wake her. We'd not talked more than to exchange our names and for me to let her know that her friend would be fine if she lived past the first 24 hours. She was too worried about her friend to care about anything else. She hadn't even tried to convince the doctors I wasn't Charlie's fiance or even asked why I would say such a thing.

When Charlie started to wake up, I didn't even think about the light being on, so when I felt her pain…I handed her the morphine button and flicked the lights off with a thought. (After I'd gotten control of the empathy, I had more control over the telekinesis, which was a huge plus when fighting demons. It was so much more fun to throw the demons threw the wall than being thrown by the demons themselves.)

It was interesting to talk with the fed. She was an open book. I imagine that the drugs in her system had something to do with that. Even though I couldn't exactly read her mind, my gift didn't work like that, I was able to sense her feelings and and with the drugs in her system, it was easy to deduce her surface thoughts.

Charlie was almost as bad as my brother by constantly calling me Samuel (which wasn't as bad as Sammy, but still damn annoying), so I decided to correct her and play with her mind a little bit. My brother has rubbed off me too much. _We were spending way too much time together._

As soon as I was satisfied that she would live and had a way to contact us should she need it, I left to find Dean. We had a gig in Santa Fe and we needed to get their a.s.a.p.


	5. Chapter 4

Rewrite of chapter 5. If you've been reading this story are just waiting for new chapters, at least skim through the body of the chapter. I'm changing small things that will have a bigger impact on the plot towards the end.

Enjoy

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys.

Chapter five

_**Charlie's p.o.v **_

_**Kaddy's Apartment**_

Since the day I turned 15, I've healed fast and I've had an unusually great immune system. But the way I was healing after this gun shot wound, it was unnatural, even for me. It'd only been four days since my doctor released me and I was almost completely healed. A gun shot wound like mine would take 4 to 6 weeks to scar completely and with how close to the heart it had been, it would take longer for me to get up to any kind of 'normal' physical condition.

I also wanted to know why the hell no one mentioned the second bullet wound. I know I was shot near my spin, I was hallucinating. I had to look at my shot to make sure, but there had been two burn holes. One near my heart and the other a little lower. It had been a through and through. I shook it from my head and finished dressing, I didn't want to see the puckered scar that looked a couple of years of verses the week or two it should have been. It didn't even bleed when I poked at it.

I didn't want to freak Kaddy out about it. She was mother hen-ing me to death and was in her element. She'd always liked to take care of people, it gave her a sense of purpose and I wouldn't deny the fact that it felt nice. It'd been a long time since someone had showed they cared for me.

I'd let my doctor know that I was in the ending stage of scarring. I never questioned the reason why I trusted my doctor the way I did. She was more than my doctor, she was family and that was that in my world. It didn't have to make sense. I made a living on trusting my gut and I wasn't going to stop now.

I had the horrible nagging sense that she was keeping something from me, something I really should know. I had to trust that she would let me know in time. Personally, I think I didn't want to know the real reason. Somehow I had the feeling that I wasn't ready yet and I've always trusted my instincts.

The break from work, allowed me some time to go through my private files on the Winchesters. After meeting Sam in the hospital, I knew that I had to reevaluate my original findings. The bureau had confiscated all my files on the case, or at least what they thought were all my files. In every case I have ever worked, I kept separate files that had my full evaluations in them. I would have been locked up long ago if the bureau or even my brother had ever found those files. So I gave the bureau the 'official' files and just didn't deign to mention that I have more official files.

The files I had given the bureau had the basic profile: their ages, description, date of birth, place of birth, basic analysis of the psyches and what medical information that could be found on the boys. There were also the scripts of witness testimonies. However, besides the brief 'talk' that my brother had engaged in with Dean Winchester, we had no other voice analysis or witness testimonies about or even against him. Even the young girl in St. Louis, hadn't said much about her torturer. Over the past couple of years, for some odd reason that no one had been able to explain properly, reports concerning the brothers usually disappeared from the local LEO's.

I'm pretty sure I was beginning to understand why. They charmed anyone they met. At first I thought it was just Dean who was the player and then I met Sam. In the hospital I realized he was just as much as a player as his brother, just more subtle. Sam had his boyish good looks with an aura of complete self…well not so much as confidence but awareness. He had an aura of innocent mystery that drew you like a moth to a flame. I had a good feeling that it made people want to mother him; I know my instincts had tried to head that way. I knew someone had hurt him and it had opened a wound inside him that would never be closed. Every move he made was for vengeance. A dangerous ambition that could not be culled until it was played out.

My new analysis of Samuel Winchester: intelligent, open, shuttered, aware, protective, strong- physically and mentally, a hunter…now I just wanted to be in a room with Dean for five minutes.

Sam was dangerous, in a way it made my skin crawl. I didn't want to be in the same room as him without my gun, but I also wanted to trust him. It gave me a migraine to think about it. If Sam, I would have to remember not to call him Samuel, was as dangerous as I thought he was, I wanted to know how dangerous Dean was. Sam was controlled danger, but if I would have to bet, I would say Dean was chaos. A perfect balance, they were a truly egnamic and dangerous pair.

Continuous thinking of the brothers, had me staring off into space, my journal open in my lap and files strewn around me. I'd kept journals for years. They kept me sane when my life became too insane. Unfortunately I had to keep the little buggers well guarded. On some level I knew it was foolish to keep a journal, especially since I wrote down everything in them. Some of them even had notes on cases I'd worked in the past years and they had every 'crime' I had ever committed. Not bright, but who ever said that I did things by the book?

Kaddy had locked me in the guest room. I swear she rented the apartment just because of the locks on the doors. Too bad for her, I knew how to pick locks. Why did she lock me in? Well that was slightly easier to explain.

I have a thing about cleaning. In my mind the two rooms that must be cleaned in a house are the living room and the kitchen. I can't stand unorganized mess. Since I had been feeling better and was restless, I decided to start cleaning her apartment. Unfortunately for me, Kaddy came home from work and freaked out on me. She still believed that I should be flat on my back in bed resting. If I were normal…I would have still been in the hospital, but I wasn't and never had been.

I was bored and picked the lock. After letting myself out of the room, I walked into the living room and smirked. Kaddy had picked the place up. She knew how I was, after all, we'd been friends all our lives.

I sat down in the blue recliner looking out the window. Kaddy would be home soon and if she saw me moving around, she'd freak again. I didn't know how to explain that I was almost healed from a nearly fatal wound.

I'd been right; Kaddy was pissed at me for getting out of bed. She'd come through the door, humming a song as she threw down her stuff. I winced at the casual mess. She was in relatively good spirits, until she saw me.

Kaddy's face turned into a storm cloud, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded as she stormed towards me, all 110 pounds of her, screaming that she was completely pissed.

I gave a barely noticeable smirk as she came towards me, I didn't want to push her too far, but I really couldn't help it. "Sitting down and relaxing."

She narrowed her eyes at my caustic tone and said through clenched teeth, "You should be in bed, resting, laying flat on your back, like your doctor said."

I shrugged, "I'm fine."

Kaddy had an odd look in her eyes, "Really?" and then she poked me…hard…right where I had been shot and there was still unhealed scar tissue. If I had been a normal person, I would have given some indication of pain…instead I just winced as the skin broke. Her nailed were too damn long.

"What the rat monkeys?" she murmured to herself at my lack or response and then pulled down my blouse. Anyone else would have been slugged and possibly shot (depending on my mood), but this was Kaddy and I knew I had some explaining to do.

She looked at the pink scar tissue in confusion. It'd been less than two weeks since I'd been shot. I should have still had an open wound with a dressing, not a pretty little scar that looked too old. It was bleeding a little from being poked, so it wasn't much to get more than just slightly annoyed at.

"How the hell is this possible?" she demanded as she pulled up a wicker chair to sit directly in front of me.

"I heal a little faster than the norm."

"Faster than normal?" she snorted. "Charlie, I'm no medical expert, but that was freakishly fast. How has no one ever noticed before? How is it I never noticed before?"

I sighed, "My father knew and so does my doctor. She figured it out after a very interesting day in the ICU after I turned 15 and it was confirmed during a trip to the ER after a car accident."

"Your brother?"

I snorted, "Hell no, I never told him…I know better. As to why you never really noticed was that even though we're the same age, I was already in college when you were a sophomore. I learned to be more careful around people. It was reasonably easy to hide."

"You've been sick before, you were is the hospital all the damn time.?"

"Did you ever see me in the hospital after I turned 15?"

She paused to think and then leaned back and sighed, "What the fuck? Have you been sick since then?"

I hesitated, "Naturally…no…by a mistake…yes. When I turned 16, I needed my immunizations for college entrance papers, my step-mom took me to the doctors and Kara was there. She'd not seen me since my last time in the ICU at 15. She gave me the shots that I needed."

Kaddy noticed my hesitation, "What happened?"

"Put me into immediate anaphylaptic shock. Kara had never seen anything like what happened to me happen before. I was immediately rushed to the emergency room. By the time I was downstairs in the ER; my heart had suddenly stopped then started again before they could start any kind of emergency action.

"Five hours later I was stable and healthy. Kara fudged my records and has been my doctor ever since. She didn't know what happened that day but she knew she couldn't say anything…I mean you don't put down in your records that you gave a patient vaccinations, have said patient die on the way to the ER, and then be perfectly healthy a few hours later.

"She kept me in the hospital for 48 hours, just for show. I was never given another vaccination and Kara's been my personal doctor ever since. She does all my physicals and fudges anything else that the Bureau calls for."

I stopped talking for a few moments. Kaddy was absorbing everything I told her with surprising acceptance.

"That's not even the kicker."

"There's more?" she asked faintly.

"It seemed that the more I was hurt in the field, the faster I healed. Bruises were gone in hours, cuts…maybe a day and a half, broken bones a week or two…"

"What about your leg?"

I grinned and stood up, "I needed a way to get out of the field. My brother wouldn't allow me to retire, he could, if he truly ever tried, pen enough on me to have me arrested and put away for any number of crimes. I didn't want that to happen, so when my brother shot me, the injury that resulted, presented the perfect opportunity." I walked across the living room, "Even though I'm not as 'damaged' as I let on, I still do have a limp left over. It was a pretty serious injury."

"Yeah but the limp is barely noticeable. It you hadn't of pointed it out, I wouldn't have even noticed it at all."

"That's true, but you know that I never wanted to be a fed. The only reason I became a fed was to get my brother to notice me. Well he noticed me, but was never pleased."

She nodded in remembrance, "I remember when we were kids that you said you wanted to be a psychologist, when you became a fed I think it surprised everyone except your father."

"Growing up, the best times that I can remember are when my dad took me hunting for deer in the back woods behind our summer home. My step-mom didn't like vacationing in the country and neither did my brother, so those summers were for just my dad and me. He always encouraged me to do the best I could and to do what ever I wanted.

"He never said anything, but I'm pretty sure he knew I was a hacker. By the time I was eight, I'd reprogrammed our new home computer. My brother had been so pissed at me. It was just one more thing I was better at then him."

Kaddy laughed at something she remembered, "I remember when we were little more than just kids. I always thought you were entirely too smart for your own good. Hell you were sixteen and had already graduated from high school and had a BA in the works in computer science…"

"Yeah, I did that to piss my brother off…he hadn't wanted me to do anything with computers because he knew that I could excel too easily in such a subject."

I ran my fingers through my hair, sighing when Kaddy asked, "Why did you become a fed in the first place?"

"Like I said, I was trying to get my brother to take notice of me. I thought that if I followed his foot steps, he'd finally stop thinking of me as an inconvenience. Well it didn't work like I'd planned too, my brother noticed me, but he just grew colder. I managed to break every record that had ever been placed, which meant that I was better than my brother once again."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, I finally stopped caring about what he thought when I was twenty years old and had my eyes opened in a very cruel way. Two weeks after my first solo case, our father died and I finally realized that he would never change. There was nothing I could do, nothing to change that. He became even more of a bastard when our father died."

"So what is done is done and nothing can be changed any more. I am trapped within the bureau and won't be able to escape until my brother takes his ever watchful and distrustful eyes off me. I shouldn't have gotten so deep in my deceptions."

I drifted off and Kaddy just stared out the window of her apartment. I had finally filled in most of the pieces that I'd never told her before. Given her information that I knew she could use against me, but never would. We were close, but not as close as those brothers. I would never understand the bond they had. The bond I was never able to experience, a bond that most siblings share and feel unquestionably for each other.

My brother and I did not share a bond even close to what the Winchesters had. We were like strangers: cold and distant from each other. When I had been younger, I had tried to live up to my brother's expectations and never could. I finally just gave up. It no longer mattered and really it still no longer mattered. I accepted that we would always be strangers that just happened to have lived in the same house when we were growing up.

I had a feeling that very soon my life would be turned upside down and I could do nothing to stop it and I wasn't even sure if I would really wanted to stop it when it finally comes about. It was time for a change and I was ready it grip it head on.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five rewrite, this was orginally meant as more of a filler chapter. I didn't change much. Just restructured a couple of paragraphs.

Read and enjoy and maybe drop a review?

Chapter Five

_**Sam's p.o.v.**_

_**Crappy diner outside of New Mexico**_

"You know, I still can't believe you gave that fed a phone," Dean commented as we pulled into another crappy diner in the middle of nowhere. He still wasn't happy with me about the fact I'd kept secrets from him. Good news was that the gig in Santa Fe had been a regular salt n' burn 'em that we'd done a hundred times before. It had gone off without a hitch.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation, "We've already had this conversation."

"What conversation?" he asked with that annoying smirk of his. I swear he did it just to annoy the hell out of me.

"I told you, she's important. I don't know why yet and I don't know how, all I know is that I had vision and she was a major player. She's also in danger, I can feel it. I wanted to leave her a way to contact us when she needed us."

"Yeah, you see, I'm not so clear on that part."

I sighed, "I told you…"

"That's not what I mean. I know and understand that you don't have a flippin' clue as to what part she plays," he interjected as he cut me off rather impatiently. "I just don't understand _when _you had the vision. I think I would have noticed something like that." (He would have too, if he'd been there) "I know that you've gotten better with your 'shinning' and all, but I still notice when you have visions. It's not something you can hide after all."

Too true, especially the nightmares that I had as a side effect to the visions. The daymares were slightly easier to hide, but nine times out of ten he still caught me when I had them. There wasn't much I could hide from him, especially now that we'd spent so much time with each other. Anymore now, we could have an entire conversation without saying a single thing. Unfortunately he was in one of his moods today and wanted a recap on an earlier conversation. I guess I should have told him about the vision earlier, but I had honestly forgotten.

"It was about six months ago…"

"The bank?"

_Was I ever going to be able to finish a sentence -_as my thought as I nodded-slightly irritated with his mood-, "Right after you hung up on that Agent Hendrickson, I had a vision that was less painful than the norm. I had a minimal headache and kind of put it out of my mind until just recently. We had bigger problems at the time and I just forgot."

He nodded as we both thought about the increased demonic activity. It wasn't just ghosts, but actual demons that were showing up. The Demon was planning something huge and we were smack dab in the middle of it. I think Charlie was too, she just didn't know it yet.

As if knowing I was thinking of Charlie, Dean muttered, "I still don't like this. What's to stop her from turning us in or tracking us by the GPS in the phone?"

"I was able to block the GPS and you'll just have to trust me that I have a gut feeling about this woman."

He snorted, "You're far too trusting."

"And you don't trust enough."

"That's because I'm smarter than you are."

"Right," I muttered as I opened the passenger door of the Impala. He didn't seem to hear me, as he followed my lead and we went into the diner.

We didn't say much as we ate and looked through the papers, searching for another gig. Trying to find out what was happening as well as trying to keep moving. We hadn't stayed in one place for more than three days at a time. It was too dangerous with the feds constantly on our tails.

Dean was reading the obituaries and I took a look through the rest of the paper. My eyes caught the heading of an odd article that usually didn't make the front page of a nationally acclaimed paper. In a nutshell it told of three mysterious deaths and four missing persons. All seven victims disappeared during the same week and only three had been found. There was nothing seemingly in common with any of the victims. The three that had turned up dead had their hearts missing.

The police had made no comment regarding the case, however the reporter who had written the article, seemed to have done some research. We'd do our own research, but apparently in the last 100 or so years, two similar cases had happened. Each case had been exactly fifty years apart. In each case, the seven victims had had nothing in common. They were all of different ages, occupations and race. It looked like we had another gig to get too.

"Hey, take a look at this," I said and pushed the paper over to my brother, with the article open. I waited as he read it.

"Looks like a ritual of some kind."

I nodded, "Exactly what I thought." I was about to say something else when I felt my phone about to ring. I let it ring once (Dean didn't like it when I picked the phone up before it rang) and picked up, "Hello Charlie."

Let the games begin.


	7. Chapter 6

Rewrite of chapter six. Same deal. Couple things have changed, not much.

Read and enjoy, pass a note or two.

Disclaimer: Alas, I donna own the boys.

Chapter Six

_**Back in California**_

Charlie's p.o.v.

I went back to work in October. I spent most of my time off in New York with Kaddy, but I decided to fly to Golf Shores to spend some time on the beach the week before I went back to work.

Even though I was 'resting', I spent a lot of time thinking about the Winchesters. I wanted to finish my analysis of them. It was irritating that I didn't have the full picture. Something vital was missing, something that would make everything clearer when I found it.

I researched the hot spots that the brothers had been reported in. Every place had odd disappearances and or deaths that didn't add up. They all seemed to stop after the Winchesters came through town.

I also took time to look into St. Louis. What I found disturbed me. Dean had appeared to fake his own death. When they exhumed the body, the body had been nothing but a burnt husk. There was nothing there to indicate who or what the body had once been. That wasn't the most unusual thing. The angry husband murders had gone on for more than five years. The brothers didn't show up until 2006 and that was when they stopped. The only suspect in the end had been Dean Winchester, it was theorized that Dean got into the heads of the husbands and caused them to kill their wives and rather gruesome ways. In the end he'd been caught because when he had tried to kill a woman himself, he'd failed. I never thought that was case. I was fairly certain that if Dean wanted to kill someone, then he wouldn't fail. It wasn't with-in him to fail.

I don't believe the husbands killed their wives, a couple of them had pretty rock solid alibis. The others had been convicted and thrown in jail. Honestly before the brothers showed up, the murders had been text book cases. The husband in a fit of insanity kills wife, protests his innocence even with the overwhelming evidence proving guilt. If there had been any evidence to the contrary it had been dismissed for one reason or another and the husband went to jail. I believe that those men were innocent. I also believe that Dean Winchester was innocent…or at least he was innocent of the murders in St. Louis.

The local PD and FBI never looked closer into the case. Everyone believed they'd bagged the body and then when Dean showed up a few months later, they figured that he had faked his own death to get away with the murders. He was good, but not that good. The body had been a perfect replica of Dean Winchester. It didn't help that technically there was no longer any body as the body that was buried was little more than ashes.

What I think happened was this: since there were prints and a body, but no positive I.D. by a family member, they closed the case because they thought that they had the guilty party. The autopsy had stated that the guy had died from a bullet to the heart…a silver bullet…the kind that was home made but still very deadly. I swear I was going to go mad if I didn't meet that cocky bastard. Every time I started thinking of him, more questions were brought up.

Unfortunately I didn't have much more time to think about the brothers. As soon as I came off sick leave, I was chained to a desk by my superiors and swamped with paperwork and profiling. I was consulted with the serial department, some whack job had kidnapped seven individuals: unrelated men and women that had never seen each other before and had nothing, absolutely nothing in common. Three were dead and four still missing. The dead victims had had their hearts removed.

The agents in charge of the case were pretty sure they had pinned the guy, but there was no evidence. I was scheduled to interview him in a few minutes.

There had been a previous interview, but the psychologist that had been present hadn't been able to get a good lock on the guy. According to him, the guy was completely normal and helpful. Not capable of any horrendous crime. I wanted to know what school the idiot went to so I could bitch at the dean as to why he'd given a quack the opportunity to practice.

"Charlie, your guy's here," Jamie, my student, informed me. He was a twenty-three year old kid that had been my intern for his first year. At first he had wanted to do field work, but would have burnt out too quickly. Instead I subtly manipulated him into looking at other specialties. He was great with computer and studying to become a profiller. He'd been pretty good once I cut the reigns. He was still new in the office so he had the pleasure of doing all the probie things such errands and the running to different departments.

I nodded in thanks, picked up my papers and limped towards the door. I had a part to play after all.

I dragged myself to the interview room and nodded at the surveillance guys. I would be alone when conducting the interview, there were less distractions that way. Briefly I looked at the files I had on the case and picked out his name.

"Mr. Grant. I'm Special Agent Charlotte Hendrickson. Do you understand why you are here?"

"Yes ma'am, I do," I was immediately on edge. His voice was pleasant enough, but there was an undercurrent of danger. I knew without a doubt that this was our guy and would try to get something for the field agents to pin on the guy.

During the course of the interview, I didn't learn much from what he said, but his body language spoke to me. He was psychotic in a way that he was completely sane. He knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how to do it and he knew exactly how to get away with it.

I was shaken to my very core, this man…no this _**thing **_in front of me both angered and frightened me and he knew it. I was good at hiding my reactions, but he was playing a game himself and knew how to read what was being hidden.

Physically he was an average looking, mid-age, white male. If I were to give an age, I would say he was 40-50 years old. He seemed so much older, almost ageless. The only thing that stuck in my mind about him was that he had an oddly shaped scar above his right eye, other than that he was completely forgettable. That was what scared me the most.

The interview had been for one purpose and one purpose only: was this man capable of murder and could it be proven. My answer: without a doubt and unless he was caught in the act, it would never be proven. This man was a professional and had done this before (this I was sure of) and he knew exactly how to get away with it.

"Keep surveillance on him, he might lead us to the other victims." I told the agent in charge of the case as I limped out into the hallway.

As soon as the agent left to do what I told him, I reached in my back pocket and took out the simple black cell phone Sam had left me. I'd been lucky in the fact that the cell he'd given me was the same type as my own and I had a charger available to keep the thing running. I limped into my office and barely even hesitated as I pushed the call button.

The cell rang once and Sam picked up the line, "Hello Charlie."

I didn't waste time on pleasantries as I limped back out of my office and into the main hustle and bustle of the bureau. It was less suspicious that way, agents were always running about and sometimes you could barely hear yourself think-this was one of those days. I vaguely noticed that Jamie was doing some research that I'd asked him to do for me.

"Have you seen the papers?" I asked as I heard Dean in the background. He sounded irritated but I couldn't exactly make out what he was saying. Sam didn't reply to what he said.

"Yeah, seven kidnappings. Three are dead and four still missing. It was on the front page on almost every newspaper I could get my hands on."

"What do you boys know," I asked. Knowing the brothers as little as I did, I knew that they didn't do anything by halves. I would be willing to bet that they knew more than the bureau did. Also, technically I wasn't allowed to discuss the case, especially with two wanted men.

"Depends, do you want the truth or the edited version?"

I hesitated, "I've doing some research on you boys and have drawn some pretty radical conclusions…I also know your father was seemingly involved in things to do with the occult, ergo you boys probably know a thing or two about it. So I want to know what you understand to be the truth."

Sam went quiet for a moment as I sat down in a chair, "Damn your smarter than I gave you credit for. Have you looked at past cases that have taken place in the last 150 years, cases that would seem like copycat murders?"

"We haven't looked that far back; records get a little unreliable the further back you go. We've found two cases in the last one hundred years. Each case has had seven missing victims and they were all found dead with their hearts missing. The other profilers, who have looked, believe our current suspect is a copycat."

"What do you believe?"

I snorted, "Me? I think I'm way out of my league here. I think that somehow…someway…that they guy who killed the victims in the past is the same guy who is doing it now. Realistically that is impossible, but somehow probable. In each case that happened, the only suspect was a guy with a scar over his right eye. Our only suspect has the same scar."

"Let me guess…the guy is completely ordinary and forgettable looking."

"Yeah…"

"Figures," he muttered as Dean asked something I couldn't quite hear and he answered, "_Fine, I will_. Charlie is there anything in common with any of the victims?"

I couldn't believe I was about to tell him this, "Not that we've been able to find. All victims are different sex, race, and occupations. I've searched every angle I could and haven't been able to find anything."

_Did you look at the medical records_? I heard Dean's voice in the background after Sam had repeated what I said to him.

"Not all that closely," I told Sam and then pulled up the medical files, from the computer, that we had on all the victims. I scanned through them. At first I couldn't see anything, then I noticed the blood type. "I think I found something."

"Blood type?"

I grew suspicious, "How'd you know?"

Sam laughed at my tone, "I've just now hacked into the system and pulled up the same files you're most likely looking at. I just noticed."

"Oh…wait a damn second," I was pissed, but was trying to remain calm. I was in a room full of federal agents after all, "**You **just _hacked _into the bureau…into _**my **_security program?"

"Don't worry, it was a pain in the ass and took me a little while, good networking by the way." I was steamed, but he continued to tell me about the case, "Like I was about to say a minute ago, there was an earlier case that probably went unnoticed. Unfortunately 150 years ago there weren't any clear medical records and in this case there were eight victims, not seven. One of the victims had been found with the heart still mostly intact."

"Mostly?"

"From old newspaper clippings that I found on the net, the heart had a piece missing from it. I'm betting that the victim was the wrong blood-type."

I had a feeling where he was leading me, "So what you're suggesting is that this copycat, who's not really a copycat, has done this three times before and the only reason he chooses the victims he does is because of their blood-type? What is he doing…eating the hearts?" I asked (it was suppose to be rhetorical).

Sam didn't say anything as he let me make my own conclusions, "That's disgusting, even by most perp's standards, why the hell would anyone want to do that?"

"There are many reasons, but in this specific case, I believe the guy gets the victims life force-for a lack of a better word-from eating the hearts. This allows him to live longer. Both Dean and I believe that it's some kind of ritual, we just haven't pinned what kind of ritual it is yet. Can't figure out why its this specific blood-type."

I was silent, I didn't know what to think anymore, all my logic has pretty much been thrown out the window in the last several weeks. What with me getting shot, looking more into the boys past and now this case. What Sam had told me made a scary kind of sense and I was starting to believe it. That frightened me in a way I couldn't understand.

In the background, I could hear Jamie and the agent in charge of the case, having it out about the case. I wasn't paying much attention until the word psychic was uttered and the conversation caught my interest.

"…need a psychic. We won't catch the bastard unless we can catch him in the act."

Sam and Dean were arguing on the phone about something I didn't catch. I remembered the light from the hospital and had an idea.

"Hey Sam, you wouldn't happened to be some sort of psychic, would you?"

Sam stopped arguing with his brother, "What do you mean by that?"

I shrugged, forgetting for a moment I was on the phone, "In the hospital, even though I was pretty out of it, I remember the light being on one moment and off the next. You never moved from the side of my bed and there was no light switch on that side of the room. When we were talking…you also seemed to almost read my mind…so I ask again are you psychic?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, "Yes and no, its complicated. I can't read minds though. I read body language and feelings and then deduce. I'm right about 99% of the time. I have a couple of other parlor tricks up my sleeve as well."

I had to ask if my idea was going to work, "What about visions."

He hesitated, "Why are you asking?"

I grinned, now knowing that even though he couldn't see me, I was betting that he could feel what I was about to do next, "I have a idea."

"No, you're crazy. It won't work."

"I can get the bureau to pay and knowing you boys as I do, I bet you can come up with a suitable disguise. Just don't bring your brother that would be tempting fate a little too much." I said and hung up before he could say anything else. I knew he was coming and I knew he would help; he was just that kind of person. I would have to come up with a meeting place, the bureau wouldn't be a great place to meet.

I was also hoping to actually meet Dean. I wanted to analyze him so bad that it was becoming an obsession.

"Guys," I called over to the agent in charge of the case and Jamie (they were still arguing), "I have a solution to your little problem."

"What?"

"Well I know this psychic and he's coming to town…."

_**Dean's P.O.V.**_

"I can't believe the gal of that woman." I heard Sammy mutter as he glared at the phone.

"Trouble in paradise?"

He threw up his hands in annoyance. Hitting the top of my baby as he did, I was about to say something about it, but he went off in a snit, "She's crazy, completely and utterly insane! It'll never work."

I looked at Sammy from the corner of my eye, '_Little brother's pissed_,' I thought with no small amount of amusement.

"Damn right I'm pissed." He glared at me, "You don't have to be so amused."

I narrowed my eyes as I took my eyes off the road for a second, "Don't use your shining on me."

For a moment he looked like he wanted to apologize and then he opened his cake-hole, "Sorry can't help it." Yeah and I was a monkey's uncle.

"_Right_…" I muttered under my breath. "Why'd the fed make you so angry?"

"Her _idea_," he hissed through his teeth.

"What idea is that?" I asked, trying to get him to calm down slightly. I swear he had more damn mood swings than a pregnant woman.

"She wants me to work the case as a psychic."

"Come again?" Was that woman completely insane? He couldn't walk into a federal police building…he'd be arrested before he walked through the doors.

Sam glared in my direction, "She wants me to some in disguise and work the case as a psychic."

"Disguise huh?" I said with a smirk, forming my own idea. Sammy's glare heated up as his damn shinning caught wind of it.

"**No**…I'm not doing it, there's no way in hell that I'm allowing anyone, especially you, with a pair of scissors."

I kept the smirk, "Then how are you going to walk into the bureau?" This could actually work…this hiding in plain sight…as long as he wasn't in anyone's sight for too long and as long as Hendrickson wasn't there.

He muttered under his breath about psychotic agents and sadistic older brothers. I didn't catch it, but I'm pretty sure that it wasn't all in English.

"Looks like we're going to the barbers," inside I was jumping for joy and I'm pretty sure Sammy felt it if his muttered 'jerk' was any indication.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven rewrite. Some things changed, if you've read it before. I suggest skimming through it at least once.

Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I donna own the boys, if I did I wouldn't still be in school.

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**Charlie's P.O.V.**_

_**8 a.m.**_

I was drinking my morning coffee when my day went to hell. It was a nice enough day and I really don't appreciate surprises this early in the day.

An agent that I really couldn't stand-the feeling was mutual on both sides-came to my office. "Ma'am." Even though the word was usually meant as a respectful term of address, I knew he meant it as a four letter curse word.

"Yes?" I murmured as I was absently looking through various case files and took another drink of coffee. It'd been a long night and I'd already been at the office since 6. I'd not made a lot of head way on the case and even though I wasn't in the field, I was still asked to continue looking for leads and then pass them along.

"A Mr. Winrest is here to see you." I choked and spit out my coffee, Jamie pounded my back. "_Who_? Never mind, I heard you. Send him in." I was in my office for the morning and would be in the main board room later in the day. I had consultations that I had to sit through since my brother wasn't here to do the work that he would usually be required to do. I was his direct subordinate in liaison matters that I was required to take over until he was back at the home office. Jamie was doing some research for me and was using my office as he didn't really have one of his own as he was still at the 'intern' level. Though technicalities aside he was basically a probationary field agent. He had to finish his BA first and then it would be official, til then he was still an intern.

When Sam walked through the door I was in shocked. Where as I expected to show up in town, I hadn't actually expected him to walked into a federal building when he and his brother were wanted federal fugitives. I wondered if Dean knew Samuel was here, I didn't really think that Dean would let his baby brother just waltz right into the arms of the FBI.

I must admit that his disguise was perfect in that it would fool anyone but those that had been actively looking for them. My brother wouldn't have been fooled in the least bit, nor was I. It was a good thing my brother was clear across country or we'd both be in deep shit right about now.

His hair was a couple of shades lighter and he seemed to have grown a couple of inches. He must have been wearing platform shoes of some kind. He'd also grown some stubble to take away his normal clean presentation. Except for the height he looked more like his brother than he ever had before.

Jamie looked up from his research and gave him a once over. I saw that Sam tensed even more than he already was, but Jamie didn't notice. It was too subtle. I would have been on edge too if I were in his position. Jamie just shrugged to himself and continued his work.

"Mr. Winrest…"

"John, please." Oh I was _so _going to strangle him when we didn't have company. They wouldn't be able to find the body, in fact they'd probably give me an award of some kind. Samuel was gambling with Fate a little too much for my liking. Good thing Jamie was loyal too me before the bureau and wouldn't asked questions.

"John, On behalf of the bureau (the irony of the thought made me want to laugh), I'm elated to see that you were able to take time out of your busy schedule to be a liaison for this case."

"Is that a pretty way of putting that I'm a fraud and that the only reason that I'm here is that your bosses are out of options."

I saw Jamie silently laugh as I smirked, "Pretty much…here are the case files; the non disclosure agreement is on top that I want you to sign before we go any further." He shrugged and signed John Winrest on the agreement and handed it to me and I in turned handed it to Jamie, so that he could file it away.

Sam skimmed through the files. He probably knew more about the case than anyone. This was more his and his brother's area than mine. I was still more than a little skeptical.

"This man you have pinned as your suspect, have you put surveillance on him?"

Jamie looked up from his work to watch us and I nodded, "Has your surveillance actually seen the guy in his house or just shadows?"

I hesitated and Jamie answered, "No one has seen him, but we know someone's in the house. Unfortunately without more evidence we can't get a judge to sign a warrant."

"Really?" Oh I knew that wasn't the right thing to say, I thought as Sam got an odd look in his eyes. That look meant trouble and I didn't have to be a psychic to see that. It was the same look my father had when someone told him that he wasn't allowed to do anything.

"So why am I really here, Charlie?"

I rolled my eyes, "You're here because the bureau doesn't know what else to do. The fourth victim was found dead this morning, with the heart missing."

"Damn, I was hoping for more time. That means you'll find the next victim tomorrow."

My eager student decided to show why I'd hired him in the first place. "Of course, its the damn moon cycle."

'WTF?' was my only thought as Sam nodded unhappily. I'd never been into the occult as a kid and most cases that dealt with the occult weren't handed to me. We had a team that took care of the stranger things that perps did.

"Damn, It the dark side of the moon tonight...which means we have until yesterday to catch the bastard in the act."

I was puzzled as to what they were talking about and was about to demand what was going on, but Sam spoke before I could get a word in edge wise. "Are you free for the day?"

I frowned, "Not really…"

Again my student spoke up, "I'll cover for you. Your brother's not here so no one will mind. Anything above my security clearance can wait until you get back. I'll let the agents on case know that you're talking to their psychic they were waiting for."

I looked at Jameson in a new light, he was right. I would have to get him in for a pay raise and his own office. Jamie was my student and knew all my cases-well he thought he did anyway, I wasn't going to enlighten him otherwise-and would be able to cover for me at the conference later today.

"Thank you Agent Jameson Alex," I said formally, yet with a smile bordering on a smirk.

He nodded, "You're entirely welcome, Special Agent Charlotte Hendrickson."

I escorted Samuel out of the bureau, limping the entire way. When we were a good ways away, the tension that surrounded Samuel visibly dispersed.

"You didn't seem too surprised at my name."

In answer he handed me a manila file that he'd had when he had walked into the bureau. I took it with a puzzled frown and flipped through it.

"Dean wants to know why I trust you, that's why. I did my own little research on you Agent Charlotte Hendrickson. I know who your brother is and I know you were heading the investigation for awhile, until they threw your brother back on the case and took you off. Just about everything I know about you can be found in that file, you can do what ever you want with it. I don't need it any more."

I was shocked, "Does your brother know about all this?"

Sam looked a little sheepish, "Not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" I asked as I stopped, turned around and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Dean knows about your career as such, I just haven't told him who your relations are. He doesn't exactly like your brother. He gives us a bit of trouble every once in while."

"Only every once in a while?" I asked in amusement.

He shrugged, "what can I say; your brother isn't exactly at the top of his game when it concerns us."

I ignored him and asked, "So you haven't told your brother that my brother is the one that has been hunting your asses across the country."

"Something like that, figured I'd let you explain the specifics."

"How kind," I muttered dryly as Sam lead me to a bus stop. "So what's the deal with the case, I know you know what's going on."

"We have until midnight to stop the bastard from finishing the ritual."

"Ritual?" I asked. Sam was about to explain but I interrupted, "Never mind I don't think I want to know right this moment. I haven't had near enough caffeine this morning."

He shrugged, "When we get to the motel I'll explain more."

"Motel?"

"I know you what to meet him."

"Meet who?" I asked sharply (I really hadn't had enough coffee for mind games) as I help my hand out for the bus and got on with Samuel following behind me.

"Who do you think?"

I frowned darkly at him; it wasn't fair he could do that. Practically pick the thoughts from my head, even though he denied that he could read minds-I didn't believe him. Sometimes I wondered about my own sanity. Two months ago I would have gladly signed myself into the insane asylum if someone had told them I would be helping two known criminals that were wanted by the federal government.

I swear it was a race to see weather or not I was going to kill the Winchesters or my brother was going to catch onto me. I wasn't looking forward to either day.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight rewrite. Some things changed, if you've read it before. I suggest skimming through it at least once.

Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I donna own the boys, if I did I wouldn't still be in school.

Chapter Eight

_**Charlie's P.O.V.**_

I finally had all the pieces of the puzzle and I was still confused as hell. Even though my mind wasn't completely wrapped around the ideal, I had a simple answer. Those brothers would walk through hell for each other and come out the better for it. I pity the poor fools who got in between those two.

Maybe it was because of my own brother and our relationship (or rather lack there of); I wasn't able to understand what those two would go through or do for each other.

The meeting with Dean about the killer went well, well as well as could be expected. It was like walking into a bear's cave. Dean was tense around me, but gradually loosened up as we talked. Though I knew if I made one wrong move, he'd have a knife or gun pointed towards my person.

The boys had his every movement staked out. They told me the story about the killer and what they thought he was. The only thing that wasn't completely clear to me was what Dean really felt about me. I knew he was pissed off at Sam about not telling him about me and my brother, but he took it in stride.

We were suppose to meet up later to take out the guy. I didn't really think they would call me. The plan we came up with was that I would be on point, watching their backs in case any of my 'friends' showed up. I would tell the agents on the case that 'John' would talk to them in the morning. I went back to the bureau to take care of some business. It took seven hours before all hell broke loose.

_**Sam's P.O.V.**_

Dean was still sulking about the fact that I had kept information about Charlie away from him, but I figured it was just payback for what he pulled last week with his damn pranks. I had to one up him, once in awhile. Charlie was right in thinking that we wouldn't call her, Dean believed that she would be a liability with her recent bullet wound and her limp. I kept trying to tell him that she wasn't exactly what she seemed, but he would listen. He would find out soon enough. Dean was planning on moving on the guys house before the moon was all the way up. I couldn't see it clearly enough, but something was going to go very wrong in a very short time.

I knew we were going to be in time to save the seventh victim from a brutal death. The sixth victim was already dead, had died before we arrived in town. The bureau wouldn't find the body for a couple of hours yet. Charlie had called to let me know they had found the fifth victim. I let her know about seeing the death of the sixth victim happen already. She wasn't happy to hear it, I could hear the slight panic of knowing things that she didn't want to know. Her whole world was changing and she was dealing with it better than most did.

_**Three hours after the sixth victim was found, 10 minutes til the seventh victim is killed**_

Right now we were outside the motel we had followed the demon that called himself Grant to. The FBI agents were still staking out his house, I imagine that they hadn't seen grant leave. The lights were dimmed and nothing could be heard. This would have led be to believe that the victim was either gagged or dead, but I could feel the absolute fear and terror and knew she was still alive in there.

I had the front door and Dean had the back. I had made him, even though he had wanted to take the front (believing that it was unsafe for me—which it was, but he was going to figure that out in a few short minutes and was going to kill me for not telling him). I had finally had that vision that had been alluding me and it hadn't been a pretty one. I knew what was about to happen and if I committed us to this path, then there was going to several things that happened all at once, yet I had seen pieces of the alternatives and this was the only path that led to both my brother and Charlie surviving.

Five minutes before we busted down the doors, I texted Charlie the address and a 911. Right after that, I dialed 911. My brother was going to be really really pissed at me when this was all over.

'911 emergency, what's your emergency?'

I lowered my voice so that it would be difficult to tell if it was male or female. "This guy just attacked two guys, a woman is injured and the attacker dead, we are at 110 cherry blossom-King's motel…hurry" I hung-up abruptly. It was all about timing and everything was going to plan-well my plan.

As soon as I hung up-I busted down the door as the demon was about to cut the girl's throat. I was able to startle him enough, but he recovered quickly and threw his athame at me. I tried to duck, but wasn't able too. The athame didn't kill me, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. My brother burst through the back just in time to see me get stabbed, I suppose I don't have to mention that all hell broke loose.

_**Charlie**_

I was waiting in my office for the boys to call me. I was so tense that I was vibrating. My damn brother had flown in a couple hours ago and I was avoiding him like the plague. I was worried about the boys and I was bored out of my mind. I've spent the last three hours after they had found the sixth victim filing paperwork filed papers and gone through some of my unsolved cases that were suspect, looking at them in a new light with opened eyes to a world that I had ignored and kind of wished I'd never been made privy too.

I went to the main room to get some caffeine when I heard a familiar voice that stopped me cold. It was Sam's voice and it was on the speakers. Hearing his voice made me check the phone he gave me. I had a text from him with an address and a 911. Panic gripped me as my brother was just coming into the room from the other entrance and there was no possible way to stop the play back of the message so I listened to the words.

I was pissed that they had gone ahead without contacting me, but I had expected it. Samuel may have trusted me, but I had the feeling that the only way Dean would trust me was if I died for them and that wasn't on my to do list anytime soon. I was glad for the text, but pissed that they'd not called. The way Samuel sounded on the recording, made it seem that things got pretty ugly. Looking at the time stamp at the message them my text had me wondering. There was almost 5 minutes between the two.

From the sound of his voice I able to deduce that if things hadn't gone to hell yet, they were about to. I got another text that said _'hurt, stabbed, Dean fighting, girl lives'._ Sam must have had a vision and want to make sure help got onto the scene. The bad thing was, now the feds were going to arrive on scene and one or both of the brothers would be brought in.

I was hoping that my brother wouldn't recognize the voice, but I had no such luck. My brother recognized Sam's voice and immediately started barking order for a full squad, S.W.A.T., and forgot the ambulance but I don't think he cared much. I stopped to make sure there was at least one coming, saw that there was and hustled to catch up with the agents that were going to the crime scene. I wanted to know how the message got in FBI's hands so soon.

_Shit, shit, damn and double damn _was the mantra going through my head as I shoved my way into a squad car that was directly behind my brother's. I silently dared them to comment. They didn't and we were speeding on my way. I was worried, pissed and afraid of what was about to happen. My brother was in the lead and even though I knew better, Sam was hurt and I didn't know what Dean's status was, but I still prayed they wouldn't be there when the armada arrived on scene.

_**Dean's P.O.V**_

_**motel**_

I saw the horrifying moment that my brother got stabbed and it threw me for only a second and then I saw red. I barely even noticed the terrified girl in the corner. I had a gun in my hand so I shot the bastard in three places, his leg, his heart and his head. Before he could get up from that, I cut his damn head off. The demon was most definitely dead this time. I would have salted him and then burned his ugly ass, but for some reason I could already hear sirens off into the distance and I was more worried about Sam than anything.

I knelt beside him and saw that he was alive but barely coherent. "Sam? Sammy? Can you hear me, can you understand me…Sammy?"

"It's Sam you jerk," I heard him mutter. I laughed to keep from crying. The sirens were coming closer and I could feel myself getting closer to the breaking point.

"We've got to get you to a hospital," I muttered.

"S'alright, one coming…called…get…out…go…okay…" He was silent but still breathing. I was indecisive of what to do. I couldn't leave my brother, but I knew if I stayed I'd be arrested immediately and no help to anyone. I trusted Sam enough to know what he was doing, but he was still my little brother.

I made my choice and grabbed his phone with the fed's number already programed into it.


	10. Chapter 9

New Chapter! I feel like I should explain that this story is AU, cannon up to John's death. They still haven't killed the yellow eyed demon. Think of this as an alternate time-line with parallel attributes to the original series. Kind of like the anime series. A lot of parallels but a few things out of series order.

Ask questions if you like and please enjoy.

Chapter Nine

Charlie's P.O.V.

The ride in the patrol car was tense. I couldn't relax and the longer that it took to get to the motel, the stronger my sense of foreboding grew. My brother was in the lead and I had no doubt that he would stop at nothing to get the brother's behind bars.

My phone rang and the agent I was sitting by glared at me. I picked it up with out looking at who was calling as it was the phone Sam gave me.

"Hendrickson," I barked out.

"Sammy's hurt, told me to leave. I won't be able to follow him to the hospital. I'll be by to pick him up in a couple of days. It goes against everything I've been taught, but I am trusting you to take care of my brother. If I didn't trust him as well as I did. I would be following him to the hospital." Dean gritted out. I could see the motel, patrol cars and an ambulance was there already.

"I won't let him leave my sight." I murmured.

"Clean and wipe the phone. It's not safe to use. The towers will have picked up the signal and I know that your brother will be looking at records as soon as he gets a moment. I'll contact you when I can."

"How?" But he had already bugged out and the car stopped.

I ignored the hub-bub and went to the ambulance. I figured that if Sam was as hurt as I think he was, then he'd be there in less then a minute. I was right.

I could see my brother arguing with the EMT's. I recognized Sam's formed and limped over a little faster.

"This man is under arrest."

"That's fine, sir. But he needs a hospital now. You can follow, but we won't allow you in the vehicle." My brother was about to say something else, but was called over to the victim by his current partner. I heard him curse and point to a standing officer and barked at to follow the ambulance.

He didn't spare me a glance and for that I was grateful.

I stopped the EMT's, "Angie, I need to go with you."

She scowled, "I know you heard me talk to your brother already." She wasn't as irritated as she pretended, otherwise her accent would be peaking through.

I grinned and pulled a trick out of Sam's bag, "Didn't you know? I'm engaged to the punk." I said and pulled out my Mother's wedding ring.

She sighed, "Kid what say ye?" Her Cajun accent coming out in her annoyance. Now she was annoyed. She'd probably been on clock for several hours and didn't want to cause a seen.

He cracked an eye open, "It's okay Mik."

The two EMT's put him in the back. Angie's partner went to the front and Angie worked on Samuel.

"I thought I said it was Sam?"

I started, "huh?"

"You've got that look on your face when your thinking about me at Samuel."

"I thought you said you couldn't read minds. You didn't follow the plan."

"Of course I did, I just followed mine. Dean would have followed yours but I changed the circumstance because I didn't like the original outcome." He stated, but didn't answer my first question.

Angie startled me my slapping Sam upside the head, "Why din't ye tell me that it was an ath'me?" Her accent got a lot thinker.

"Mik, It doesn't matter, I'll be fine."

"Donna a tel me it don matta."

"What the hell is going on? And why are you calling Angie, 'Mik'?" My question would go unanswered for now as Angie's phone rang.

"'Ello?" whatever was said made her swear in a language I didn't quite know. She sighed and handed the phone to Sam. "What did you fool boys get into." Her accent under control in her weariness.

"Sam." He barked. He scowled and then said, "fuck you, bitch. I'll do this on my terms and my terms alone. You can't stop me." He then hung the phone up and told Angie, "I love you Mik, but next time your mother calls me, don't hand me the phone."

She sighed, "ETA is ten minutes, what's the plan?"

I wanted to scream in frustration at the lack of answers. Then again I wanted to know how the hell Samuel thought he was going to get of this, then I was going to chain him to a bed and beat the damn answers out of him. He smirked at me as if he knew what I was thinking. He clicked his tongue, "So violent, the plan is, I go to the hospital and get treated for the rather serious, if not life-threatening wound. Charlie make sure my brother stays away until my say so. I need your phone." I held my tongue and handed him the phone he gave me. He did the strangest thing. He swiped him hand over the phone, it sparked as if it had gotten zapped by an electrical charge. WTF.

_**Sam's P.O.V.**_

_**Right after Dean leaves**_

My brother was going to be utterly pissed when he realized what I did to him to get him to leave. Hopefully I would be at the hospital surrounded by feds by then. He really didn't like it when I used my empathy to push suggestions in his mind.

The Feds were already barging in. I didn't pull the athame out, even though is was poisoning my blood stream, I would be find. It was acting like a plug for a slow leak. The athame didn't hit any of my organs, but if I was foolish enough to pull it out I could bleed out, and that wasn't on my to do list.

My brother and I had found out that I was immune to several poisons when a run in with a demon hit man went wrong. Dean had been down for the count and I'd been sevearly injured and still trying to fight off the demon who been trying to collect a bounty by taking out my brother. I'd thrown him into the lit furnace with a bit of telekinesis and damn near blew up the house. I'd found out later once I'd taken Dean to the hospital that I'd been very lucky to be alive. I'd actually crashed there in the ER once my brother was taken in to see a doctor and the nurses had hell trying to figure out why. My heart had stopped then restarted before they were able to get me back into a room. I was told that my body had been able to fight off an unidentifiable poison and I was lucky to be alive. It seemed that one of my 'gifts' was an immunity of sorts. It would come in handy against the athame's poison.

My thoughts were broken at the sound of a familiar voice.

"BP is 80 over 40, breath soft, heart rate erratic." Shuffling me and moving me onto a stretcher.

"That man is under arrest, I can't let you just take him."

"Sir he's dying. If we don't get him to a hospital now he won't make it." It was Mik's voice. She was exaggerating my condition a little. I couldn't help but love her for it. I wanted to laugh but that would hurt too damn much. I felt Charlie come up to the ambulance. That girl was trouble in a small package. I saw another vision of her in front of a hospital. Men with guns and then a familiar presence and the vision broke. The poison was fucking with my powers.

I grinned when I heard Charlie's reply mirroring the one I gave not to long ago.

Mik's accent got stronger when she was irritated and I knew she was annoyed at the situation that she found us in. "Kid, what say ye?"

I cracked an eye open, I'd had then shut the entire time in an attempt to keep out the conflicting emotions I was feeling everywhere. "It's okay, Mk."

I could feel the train of Charlie's thoughts taking an annoyed and curious tone. "I though I said it was Sam?"

"Huh?"

I grinned, I did enjoy my little mind games and Charlie was as easy as Dean to mess with. I would have felt guilty, but I'd learn to take my fun when I could get it. In the world my brother and I lived in, we didn't have a lot of moments where we would have fun. "You've got that look on your face when your thinking about me at Samuel."

"I thought you said you couldn't read minds. You didn't follow the plan." That was true three months ago. It wasn't quite true anymore. Like many of the kids from the demon's plan, once our gifts started to manifest, they just kept getting stronger. My armory was becoming much bigger than my brother or I would like and he didn't even know it all.

"Of course I did, I just followed mine. Dean would have followed yours but I changed the circumstance because I didn't like the original outcome." I told her. I would answer the other question in a more private setting. I trusted Mik with my life, but I couldn't say the same about her partner.

I was literally slapped from my musings as Mik slapped me upside the head, which was impressive considering the angle I was laying down at. "Why din't ye tell me that it was an ath'me?" Her accent got a lot thicker. I'm glad we weren't alone in or I'd get a lecture that would probably make my ears bleed.

"Mik, It doesn't matter, I'll be fine." I tried to sooth her.

"Donna a tel me it don matta." She was still pissed, I'd have to try and change the directions of her thought. I didn't want her thinking about things that could put her in danger. There was a reason that her mother hated me.

"What the hell is going on? And why are you calling Angie, 'Mik'?" That would be a story for another day, Mik's phone rang. Speak of the devil.

"'Ello?" Mik barked in her accent. She let off an impressive string of curses and handed the phone to me. I sighed and took it. I really didn't want to listen to what her mother had to say. Mik asked, "What did you fool boys get into." Her accent was back under control. She was still irritated, but now I knew she wouldn't pursue matters that didn't involve her. I would have to thank her later.

"Sam." I barked out, possibly a little harsher than I wanted to.

"What the 'ell did you do. You shouldn't have changed things so much. Dean would have lived, the girl should have died. You've just painted a big fuckin' target on that little slip of a thing. There is a reason no one knew about her until know. No you've point the finger at someone who can't protect herself yet. By the way you little bastard, stay away from my daughter.

I knew the look on my face was set to kill. Angela was one of few people in the world I possibly hated more than the yellow eyed demon and that was saying something. "Fuck you, bitch. I'll do this on my terms and my terms alone. You can't stop me." I wanted to say more, but I knew it would be pointless. I turned to Mik, "I love you Mik, but next time your mother calls me, don't hand me the phone." I left it unsaid that I wanted to kill her.

She sighed but didn't pursue the matter, just said, "ETA is Five minutes, what's the plan?"

I knew Charlie was almost at her breaking point in her confusion, but she would have her answers sooner than she would like. I felt a small amount of pity for her, she was about to be brutally shoved into a world that wanted to break her and use her for its whims and she would be able to do very little to stop it.

Instead I clicked my tongue to show my annoyance at her sharp mental 'Samuel' and smirked at her rather violent train of thought, her and Dean were quite a bit alike, "So violent, the plan is, I go to the hospital and get treated for the rather serious, if not life-threatening wound. Charlie make sure my brother stays away until my say so. I need your phone."

Surprisingly she held her tongue when the questions were just waiting to burst free. She handed the phone over and I moved my hand over it and sent a small telekinetic charge at it. It acted much like a magnet to completely destroy the phone. I handed it to Mik and she tossed it in the bio-hazard bin.

Mik gently pulled the athame out and threw it in the bin as well. She would dispose of it later. She used her supplies to temporarily clot the wound until I could get into surgery. Mik's partner pulled into the entrance and he answered my unasked question. "I don't talk to feds."

I nodded and Charlie hopped out of the back to stop the other fed from getting too close. Mik and her partner got me out of the ambulance and rushed me into the hospital. I was given something and I knew nothing in less then 10 seconds.


End file.
